


Charleston Spin

by highonbooks



Series: Pretty Pearls [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highonbooks/pseuds/highonbooks
Summary: Tom could bet his wand that Abraxas had make-up in his face, were he turned around.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle
Series: Pretty Pearls [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/45149
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Charleston Spin

The first sign something was up was the sound of music coming from his dormitory. From outside, only murmurs of the brass section and drums could be discerned, not even a clear rhythm to help Tom guess what exactly he was going to see when the door opened. Some new temptation from Abraxas, no doubt.

Ever since the blond man had seen him… enjoying his stolen garments, a spell was cast in Abraxas Malfoy’s imagination. He could not stop thinking about the clothes, he would plot and scheme ways to empty the dormitory so Tom could be persuaded into them, he would purchase little trinket as bribes and, the most telling of it all: he would not stop touching Tom.

Not that it bothered Tom all that much.

Free stuff is always good, and they _were_ in rationing.

Asking for the universe for strength and patience, the young man opened the door and let himself be swallowed by whatever shenanigans his ‘not-boyfriend’ would create.

The music, muffled before, was a jazzy composition, played loud and fast; it was the kind of thing you would see in dancing clubs, it invited movement. Every beat of the drum was pulsing against his sternum, and even he was feeling powerless, confronted with this defiant song.

Still a bit dazzled from the rhythm and the volume, it took him a second to identify Brax against all of the mess in the dormitory. And he almost swallowed his tongue when he saw it.

Abraxas was swaying with the music, back to the door, with no care in the world. He had braided his long-ish hair into a French braid, that he no doubt begged one of the girls to do for him; and was wearing a dress.

Not a dress – a nightgown.

A camisole.

It was white in colour, with that pearlescent sheen that only magic silk had. It fit him oddly, being broader than most women and Tom, a bit stretched against his chest and too loose in his waist line. The effect was that he, pale as only rich boys could be, looked like the sluttiest ghost to ever haunt Hogwarts.

To finish the _ensemble_ , he also had gathers and socks to match.

Tom could bet his wand that Abraxas had make-up in his face, were he turned around.

When the moment of shock passed, two warring sentiments bloomed in his chest: anger and desire. He was angry because _was Abraxas mocking him in some way now?_ His dresses and stolen jewelry were ways for him to still feel beautiful and desirable despite the awful life he led outside of the school. He did this as a treat for himself, to decompress, to clear his head. Abraxas always saw as a kinky way to have sex and pretend that the power play between them were different. He, the powerful pureblood seducing a girl and Tom, said girl. He could stop at any time, while Tom was bound by all the ways his make-believes helped him keep up.

But also, his partner in crime cut a very interesting figure like this and Tom was young and easy to placate still. He would simply _punish_ Miss Malfoy.

He slammed the door closed behind him, spooking the other into turning around, eyes wide. He was using make up, and it was clear that he applied himself: the lashes were clumpy and the lipstick was uneven in places.

“Oh… hello Riddle!” Brax said, smile getting bigger as the danger of discovery had passed. Tom made sure to keep his face blank and approached the other boy. He stopped the music with a flick of his wand and, in the next moment, grasped both of the blond hands and leered at him.

“So, this is what you do when I am not around, huh? Flaunting yourself to anyone that could come by? Perhaps Avery or Black? You like wasting time with them, don’t you? Or even Lestrange, heaven knows all that animosity cannot be just from arguments, right?” He said, faking an angry tone that clearly, Brax believed to be true. His grey-blue eyes widened in fear.

“No, no… I did this for you! I swear!”

Tom, however, wanted to play with his food.

“For me? To show me how pretty you are? How much better you can do this? Is this what this is… Miss Malfoy?”

Brax was distressed enough by this point to try and play dirty with Tom, something he never dared before: Tom Riddle was a know escalator of conflicts. He lurched forward and landed a waxy kiss by Tom’s left cheek. His breath was labored.

“Tom, c’mon. I tried so hard to make this work. Please, why are you upset? You did not like me like this?” There was a whiny component to his voice now. Tom could see him as spoiled princess now, a new layer to the game.

“I am not upset, dear heart. You caught me off guard with all this music and your dancing. You should be more careful; these boys want only one thing out of you.” He gave a small smile then. “Different from me, they are.”

Brax was now smilling shyly, clearly more calm and ready to play.

“And what does Mr. Riddle want from me?”

Tom answered with a kiss that was more teeth than tongue. Abraxas moaned in surprise and responded, but by then Tom was bored already and moving to the others neck. He laid kisses and bites all over the pale flesh, more often than not drawing blood and leaving marks that would bloom purple by tomorrow morning.

“Ahh, ahh, Tom, please…” Brax moaned, his eyes were clouded with lust.

“Shhh, I am making sure all of those nasty boys know who you belong to. Marked like this, the urge to dance around in your knickers to call attention will diminish.” Tom replied, his voice rough and demanding. Brax only nodded and let himself be ravished, his arms around Tom’s shoulders.

With this surrender, Riddle started to grope and pinch his lover, hands touching every part of the camisole. Brax twisted and moaned, panting wetly into the others neck but did nothing to stop it or reciprocate. The exploration was thorough: he knew now that Brax had balked at using female underwear and went with his own boxers, his commitment to the tableau lacking. He did not shave either and Tom could feel his fine, soft, hairs in the space between the end of his boxers and the beginning of the socks. He snapped one of the gathers cruelly and enjoyed the little jump Brax gave. Most of the lipstick was gone and a few tears had escaped the other boy’s eyes, creating a little river of black in his face. Tom smiled at that.

“Now that you are properly marked and learned a lesson in teasing your betters…. How about a treat?” He asked, already maneuvering Brax into the closest bed. That so happened to be his own.

Brax blinked at him, but nodded, crawling into bed passively.

Tom rearranged the other to be laying down on his back, hands demurely on his chest. He kept a dazzled expression on his face, but Tom knew better than to go easy on Brax because of a few crocodile tears. With one hand keeping his balance, he let the other wander down to the other boy’s underwear. Brax tried to keep the distressed damsel persona, but that crumbled as Tom’s hand began to move slowly and firmly on his cock.

“Ah, ah, Tom please, faster.”

Tom took his hand of Abraxas immediately and growled:

“You take what I give you. When I give you. See if this lesson, out of all of the others, sticks with you when this is over.”

Both boys stared at each other for a minute, a thousand words in a single glance.

_This is a game, this is a source of comfort, this is a form of care, but Tom dictates the rules no matter what_.

Once Brax nodded, Tom resumed his slow hand job, teasing the other with his tongue on the slit from time to time, stopping whenever the moaning acquired words, recommencing whenever his lover quieted down. After a few moments, Brax was shaking like a leaf in the wind, his cock an inflamed red colour, both his boxers and the edge of the camisole were ruined with precum and Riddle showed no signs of going any faster or harder. His thighs twitched madly and for every breath he took there was sob waiting to leave his mouth. It was maddening but _oh so good_. A wet sound permeated the dormitory and it seemed to get louder and louder in Brax’s mind; it made him feel filthy and used, and that thought kept sending a frisson of desire in him.

“Is my girl ready for her treat?” Tom asked with a mocking lilt to his voice. Brax opened his mouth to answer but, seeing the raised eyebrow of his lover, he changed courses and only nodded his head.

“Good girl.” Tom cooed at Brax, speeding up his movements. He was hard in his trousers and couldn’t wait to have his turn.

Abraxas could no longer stop the mewling sound in his mouth from escaping, but he managed to keep himself still, no grabbing or shifting. When his orgasm hit, it made him curl around himself; it was so good, cumming after being teased, that it bordered on painful. He could not stop himself from gasping for air.

Tom also felt breathless, but from the whole power play; his cock was still stiff as a rock. He cleaned his hand on the camisole, to make sure it stayed ruined no matter who tried to cleaned. He regarded his lover, the messed-up make-up, the flush in his cheeks, the happy glaze in his eyes, enjoying the aftermath of being enjoyed. Tom felt himself content then. He smiled at Brax and started to work on his belt.

“Now, Miss Malfoy, let’s see you put that clever tongue to use. That lipstick is not your colour at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.: Once again, for my dearest Ari! Hope you enjoyed this much delayed installment.


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